


Please Leave A Message

by alkjira, diemarysues



Series: Three [9]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, M/M, Multi, Smut, Threats To Withhold Cookies, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:03:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marshall McLuhan coined the phrase: "The medium is the message".</p><p>Does that apply to the medium of Skype and if the message is a video of Thorin giving Bilbo enthusiastic head?<br/>Will Dwalin be sad or glad that he missed answering the call? (And how many heart attacks would Dori have if he knew what was being recorded?)</p><p>Maybe. We'll see. (Many.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bilbo didn't really appreciate it when he found the text logs of Thorin’ and Dwalin’s discussions about how to best reduce him to an inarticulate mess using only their mouths and hands.  
  
  
Alright, fine, on some level he did appreciate it, (and that level was around crotch height) but it was also more than a fair bit mortifying, because what if someone else found the conversations? Someone like Balin, or Dori, or Tauriel. Not that the first two usually borrowed the computer or the laptop or anyone’s mobile when they were over - and to be embarrassed over something Tauriel knew about you was fairly pointless; she already knew everything.  
  
  
But _still_! If his lovers felt that they needed to discuss this particular subject, couldn’t they at least do it when they were in the same part of the country? And in such a way that didn’t leave evidence?  
  
  
Thorin and Bilbo were currently in one of Thorin’s hotels up north, filming a special episode of Second Breakfast. Or Bilbo was filming; Thorin was mostly making a nuisance of himself by standing off to the side and being distracting. Dwalin hadn’t been able to join them since he was also busy filming, and disappointing as that was, it was perhaps a blessing in disguise when it came to productivity. Unless the two of them entertained each other instead of distracting him.  
  
  
Come to think of it, they’d probably done most of the discussing while he’d been filming. Brilliant, how was he supposed to get through tomorrow’s shooting without appearing on national television with an erection? It was going to be like trying not to think about a pink elephant, if said ‘elephant’ meant ‘thoughts of his two lovers conspiring to give him orgasms’. Thorin was lovely enough to look at as it was, even when he was just standing around pretending to know what was going on, so it was _not_ going to be easier to concentrate on the show if Bilbo constantly thought about him and Dwalin trading blowjob techniques.  
  
  
They might have done it over the chat in Skype (with their mobiles, probably _on set_ ), but his brain insisted on showing him images of them demonstrating their skills on each other. Simultaneously. On silk sheets. And at great length.  
  
  
“Bilbo, have you logged in to Skype yet? Is Dwalin online?” Thorin asked as he walked into the study, and yes, this was indeed a hotel room – _suite_ – that came with a study; complete with a sturdy desk in oak and a bookcase that actually had books in them. That was probably a perk of owning the hotel.  
  


“I got a little distracted.” Bilbo got up off the chair and pointed to the laptop screen. “You and Dwalin actually discussed -” He waved his hands in a manner he hoped encompassed the inappropriateness of the situation but had a feeling that he failed, given that he received a confused look. “- _that_. Blow jobs.”  
  


Thorin took a look at the screen and had the nerve to become even more confused. “Why shouldn't we?”  
  


“Anyone could read it!"  
  


"I'm very careful; it’s not like I did it with a big screen in public, or on a laptop that I use for work. And Dwalin's very careful as well." Thorin’s slightly defensive look melted into something a great deal more… sly. "He was especially careful to tell me how you couldn't even walk last time he sucked your cock."

 

"That's not even remotely related," Bilbo said faintly, his brain having decided to take a short break and revisit the memory of that occasion.

 

"Beg to differ." Thorin stepped forward, crowding Bilbo against the desk. "I want to see if I'm as good as my cousin."

 

"Is this a continuation of some childhood feud?" Bilbo made a face, hands automatically going to Thorin’s waist. "And that's a disturbing thought. No thinking about children now."

 

"You started it." Thorin grinned against Bilbo's neck, palm ghosting over Bilbo's groin. "And I'm going to end it."

 

Bilbo snorted. "End the bit where you talk like someone from a bad action film." A beat. "And don't tease."

 

Immediately, the rocking motion of Thorin’s palm gentled. "Tease? I'd never dare."

 

“Remember that I keep you fed.” He’d barely finished speaking before his trousers were unzipped and strong fingers wriggled their way into his boxers. He pushed his hips into the contact, hoping for a firmer touch. "I'm taking that as a compliment I think."

 

"You should." Thorin smiled. "And not just on behalf of your cooking. I do want to suck you. Badly." His tongue swiped over thin lips. “Been thinking about it all day while you were faffing around with slicing and chopping.”

 

Bilbo swallowed. Tried not to think about the swallowing Thorin would be doing soon. And he would just ignore the 'faffing around' comment, for now at least. "Then just let me - let me get out of these –”  
  


"I'll help,” Thorin offered, sinking down to his knees.   
  


"Yes, that is – _very,_ helpful."  
  


Unfortunately, (one of) his lover(s) decided to be unhelpful by leaning forward and nuzzling the open v of Bilbo's trousers. Bilbo's knuckles were white, gripping the edge of the table, and he gasped when Thorin opened his mouth.

 

"Still so sensitive," Thorin murmurs, voice slightly muffled.

 

"It's - of course-" 

 

Thorin licked a stripe up Bilbo's stomach, aided by the fact that the smaller man had undone his buttons earlier. In the cool air of the room, goosebumps erupted along Bilbo’s and he shivered, hips jerking of their own accord. Thorin smiled against his skin, dipping his tongue into Bilbo’s navel and – _fucker_ – gazing up at Bilbo with innocent pale blues.

 

He groaned, pressing the heel of his hand to his jaw. "I will withhold cookies." Strange, how steady his voice was.

 

“I will withhold your orgasm.”  
  
  
"I have hands."  
  


"My hotel has room service."  
  


"And my cookies?"

 

Thorin's voice lowered, even though his eyes remained on Bilbo’s face. "I was really looking forward to having you come in my mouth."  
  


"I'm not the one not sucking me!" He blinked. "Wait."  
  


While Bilbo was puzzling this out (so much for being coherent), Thorin pulled his pants and trousers down to mid-thigh in one syncopated motion. His eyes fluttered closed as he breathed in deep and Bilbo whimpered.

 

"Aren't you usually the one saying that good things can't be rushed?" Thorin shifted, spreading his knees slightly, no doubt to make room for his own arousal still trapped beneath two layers of fabric. "Granted, there’s usually an oven involved." 

 

"The room feels hot enough to be one." Bilbo flexed his fingers. "And before you ask whether I want the air conditioning up; no. I want your mouth. I want my cock in your mouth."

 

"I was going to offer a chilled drink," Thorin said mildly.   
  


"Thorinnnn..."

  
A low chuckle. "Don't say I never listen." Then Thorin was swallowing Bilbo down, tongue flat against the underside of his cock, mouth hot and wet and _nnnngh_.  
  


Bilbo let his head hang backwards, jaw loose, desperately trying not to shove his cock further down Thorin’s throat – not before explicit permission otherwise, that was. No, Bilbo kept his hips steady, perfectly content to let Thorin do as he wished. Except –

 

Except –

 

“Thorin.”

 

“Mmpf?”

 

Bilbo bit his lip for a moment; had Dwalin mentioned the humming incident to Thorin, or was Thorin just lucky? “You know how you wanted to leave me, leave my knees – _ah_ , leave my knees trembling –” 

 

“Mmm?”

 

“F-fuck. If you keep, keep with that I’ll –”

 

Thorin pulled of, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth in an unfairly attractive way, looking much too pleased with himself. “Oh, alright. We’ll just relocate –”

 

Having assumed ‘relocate’ meant ‘go to bed’, Bilbo gave an undignified squawk when he was unceremoniously dumped onto the desk. As Thorin properly pulled off Bilbo’s trousers and pants, Bilbo squirmed in place; surely there were rules against putting one’s bare bottom atop a desk in a five-star hotel. There had to be. Even if you owned the desk, and the hotel.

 

He got over his reservations quickly enough, especially when Thorin looked at him like he was something delectable to eat. As the dark-haired man pulled the desk chair close (probably wise, no need to crane his neck), Bilbo leaned back on his palms, clad in an open button-down and nothing else.  
  


“Don’t you think it’s time to call Dwalin?” he asked, smiling deviously. No doubt they’d give their lover a shock, but no one said they had to turn on the video until they were absolutely sure Dwalin was alone. Just the idea of Dwalin watching them with wide eyes – never mind the distance between them – was enough to have Bilbo moaning, gently palming his saliva-slicked cock.

 

It was endlessly flattering that Thorin’s eyes were intent on the progress of Bilbo’s hand, but he had been serious about calling Dwalin. It was best that Thorin handle the technology, because Bilbo feared he’d accidentally make a call to one of Thorin’s relatives.

 

(Well. One of Thorin’s other relatives. Any of the other ones they _weren’t_ shagging.)

 

They were both a little disappointed when Dwalin didn't answer (what was the point of being online when he wasn’t available?), but Thorin noted the 'leave a video message' option before Bilbo did. He hovered over the link as he shot a smirk at Bilbo.  
  


Bilbo nodded breathlessly, even though his mind was now supplying him with ‘what if’ scenarios. Namely, what if the recording got into the hands of unsavoury people? “Dori is going to kill me," he muttered under his breath. 

 

"It's just going to Dwalin."

 

"Someone is going to break into the house and steal the computer."

 

Thorin lifted his hand from the laptop’s touchpad, placing it on Bilbo’s thigh. His thumb stroked reassuring swipes over silky skin. "We don't have to."

 

Bilbo bit his lip. "No, but I want to." He did. It wasn’t so much about being adventurous and daring, it was about Dwalin, and wanting to show him what he was missing – and wanting to show him that he was missed. “I want to.”

  
Thorin took Bilbo's face in his hands and kissed him deeply and thoroughly; enough that Bilbo was utterly dazed when they parted for air. Woebegone, he watched as Thorin then adjusted the laptop so the webcam is pointing in the correct direction – which meant directly at Bilbo’s flushed cock, and he was aware of himself enough for that flush to spread to his cheeks –, pulling the chair in as he did so, and hit record.  
  
  
Thorin made sure that he could see the tiny screenshot of Bilbo's cock (oh _gods_ what were they doing?) before smiling and getting to work. Any last minute protests Bilbo might have – which were admittedly quite weak at this stage – disappeared completely when that lovely, wethot mouth engulfed his cock again.  
  


It would have been convenient, and lovely, to have his legs draped over Thorin's broad shoulders, but that wouldn't make for a very good video. After all, the focus was Thorin’s mouth and hollowed cheeks and flushed face – so Bilbo gamely spread his legs to make room for Thorin as he bent down, taking Bilbo into his mouth. 

 

He did allow himself one hand (the one farthest from the computer) pushed into Thorin's hair, tugging, pulling. He knew, same as Dwalin, that Thorin loved to have his hair played with when he was sucking cock, or rimming. It didn’t even have to be very forceful; there’d been an occasion where Thorin had come in his pants without any help, just with Dwalin’s cock heavy on his tongue and Bilbo’s hands in his dark hair. 

 

In spite of this – or maybe because of it – Thorin couldn’t help but tease Bilbo a little more and he flicked his tongue out to lap at just the underside of the head. Then as Bilbo let out a doubtlessly satisfying whine, Thorin wrapped his thumb and index finger around the base of Bilbo's cock and held it steady as he swallowed it down. 

 

With Bilbo watching, Thorin had his eyes locked on the camera as he did this – as if locked with Dwalin’s eyes. Bilbo moaned, fingers tightening in Thorin’s hair. They both knew what it did to Dwalin. What it _would do_ to Dwalin. 

 

Thorin’s other hand was pressed against Bilbo's stomach, stroking and petting, not bothering to hold Bilbo's hips down against the table. As if he wanted Bilbo to be able to thrust. And he would, make no mistake, so long as Thorin kept doing _that_ with his tongue, that wet slurping that made Bilbo forget everything about being polite. It wasn’t that Bilbo was shy about taking what he wanted; it was just that he didn’t want to seem rude or demanding.

 

Hopefully gripping dark hair and guiding Thorin’s movements wasn’t either. The way it made Thorin moan around him was probably a fair indication that he didn't mind.

 

Thorin bobbed his head up and down, coating Bilbo's cock liberally before pulling off and blowing gently to watch Bilbo twitch at the shocking cold. When Bilbo cursed at him, Thorin winked first at him, and then at the camera.

  
"Thorin,  _please_."

 

"I'm just giving Dwalin a good look."

 

“You’re teasing.” Bilbo retrieved his hand and lifted his leg to rest his heel against the table’s edge, some leverage for when Thorin got back to what he was _supposed_ to be doing. He rubbed his nipple, letting his gaze grow half-lidded, and lowered his voice. “I thought you were going to show me how good you were. I thought you were going to show Dwalin you’re better than he is.”

 

“I am,” Thorin breathed, brows furrowed. Funny how he was still completely clothed; given his predilection for tight, arse-fitting trousers, that couldn’t be comfortable.

 

“I’m still talking.” Bilbo licked his lips, deliberately moistening them; given the camera angle, this was purely for Thorin’s benefit. He shifted his hips for Dwalin’s pleasure. “I’m still… waiting.”

 

Thorin growled loudly, pressing his lips to the head of Bilbo’s cock, tongue flicking out to taste, and Bilbo's hips twitched again. He was about to challenge Thorin further when the other man took mercy on him and started to suck again, lips tight, bobbing his head up and down. 

 

As wonderful as that felt, Bilbo still felt quite articulate despite the growing urge to come. He returned his hands to their original position, flat against the tabletop, and started rocking his hips upwards, helping Thorin along. He didn’t choke Thorin – he wasn’t quite that cruel – but even those tiny movements were enough to have Thorin whimper. It made Bilbo feel powerful… right until Thorin came up with his reply.

 

He let his teeth come into play, just the slightest graze on the upslide, and then swallowed on the way down. Bilbo's fist hit the table with a dull thud and he trembled with the effort not to buck his hips upwards and shove himself deeper into Thorin's hot slick mouth, with the effort not to lose control.

 

Thorin let his hands wander downwards, parting Bilbo's thighs further, letting the movement of his mouth and tongue turn sloppy. Amongst these noisy slurps, Bilbo had the presence of mind to wonder about Thorin's own cock, most likely throbbing insistently between his legs. Every noise falling from Thorin's mouth, every tiny twitch of his fingers sent a spike of want racing down Bilbo's spine. 

 

Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut when nails scratched down his thigh; when Thorin hummed again, loudly, he came with a shout, belatedly muffling it with his fist. Thorin swallowed every drop Bilbo had to give, and when he released Bilbo’s soft cock, the sound was obscene enough to make Bilbo moan and honestly think he’d come again.

 

Thorin caught a stray droplet from the corner of his mouth, then grinned up at Bilbo. His hair was in attractive disarray, going well with the red dusted across his cheeks. “So. Knees steady?”

 

Bilbo groaned weakly, and gently collapsed onto his back.

 

Entirely smug, Thorin turned his grin to the camera. Then hit the ‘end call’ button.  
  
  
-  
  
  
Dwalin stared at the computer screen.  
  
  
"Son of a-"  
  
  
And with that, he pressed replay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC... (!)
> 
> -
> 
> Quick vote, oral fixations are awesome. Y/Y?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin gets to join in.
> 
> Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, y'all better thank alkjira because without her about 90% of this chapter wouldn't exist. (And, PT, no I'm not exaggerating.)

“You sent me a video of the two of you shagging.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Thorin said with a smug smile, a smile that Dwalin could only see because they were talking to each other over the computer and not over the phone. While it was a treat to be able to see his lovers, small and occasionally blurry as they were when the internet connection decided to crap out on him, apparently that wasn’t _all_ this Skype thing was good for.  
  
Apparently it was also immensely suitable for making homemade porn, which in hindsight, Dwalin should maybe have figured out before. Didn’t everything related to the internet get to porn sooner or later? At least that would explain a great deal about the crazy things crazy people posted about them online.   
  
“’Shagging’ and oral sex is not the same,” Bilbo said very primly for someone that had sent him _homemade porn_. “Besides, you and Thorin started it with your discussion about how to -” the blond waved his hand. “Get me off.”  
  
“Did it get _you_ off?” Thorin asked throatily. “Did you watch it while you touched yourself?”  
  
Well of course he bloody had, but that wasn’t the point.  
  
“If that video somehow gets into the wrong hands -”, then Dori, Tauriel and most of their fans would probably die, albeit for very different reasons. (Shock; joy; and a combination of shock, joy, and unholy glee.)  
  
“If that happens Thorin has offered us to stay at his hotel in Norway indefinitely,” Bilbo said with a wry smile. His voice lowered. “You did - did you like it?”  
  
“‘Course I bloody well did.” Dwalin licked his lips. The sound had been a bit shit, and from time to time the video quality had been as well, but it’d still been the hottest fucking video he’d seen. “And could you walk afterwards?”  
  
Thorin’s shook his head, smug smile back in full force.  
  
“I didn’t get to _try_ ,” Bilbo said with quiet dignity. “Someone crawled on top of me and distracted me quite thoroughly.”  
  
“I did ask you if your knees were steady,” Thorin pointed out. “I didn’t get a yes on that.”  
  
“I was busy trying to remember how to breathe.”  
  
“Breathing is _less_ tricky than walking.”  
  
“I never said that it wasn’t, I just -”  
  
“You two planning on bickering your way through this conversation?” Dwalin asked, shaking his head when Bilbo and Thorin turned to look at him; well, the image of him on their laptop screen. “Swear to god you would argue even if the world was about to end.”  
  
Bilbo and Thorin glanced at each other and then back at Dwalin.   
  
“Only if it’s his fault -”  
  
“He started it.”  
  
“Can’t believe I let the two of you go off without me,” Dwalin lamented, only half-joking.  
  
“We miss you,” Bilbo said softly. “But we’ll be home soon. Just another few days to go.”  
  
Right, and hopefully it’d be a while before Thorin had to scamper off to one of his other hotels. He’d really cut back on travelling in the last year, and Dwalin was not going to sulk just because for once it was _him_ who had to go to bed alone. For the third fucking night in a row. At least he’d have that video to keep him company now, instead of just his hand.  
  
“Yeah, miss you too,” Dwalin sighed. “The house feels bloody big without the two of you around. Can’t imagine how I ever lived here by myself.”  
  
“I can’t imagine how either of you managed to feed yourselves properly before I came along,” Bilbo said snootily, putting his nose in the air.  
  
“I can’t imagine my life without you two, anymore,” Thorin said, and even though Dwalin wanted to disparagingly call him a sap, he found that he couldn’t. He agreed too much with that statement, though from his point of view.  
  
It was amazing that they’d somehow reached this point, that they’d found each other. Or, Thorin had always been a part of his life, but not… not like this. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.   
  
Unless that was a world where they were in the same part of said world more often than they were currently.  
  
Bilbo, however, had no such qualms as Dwalin when it came to Thorin’s statement. “You are such a twee romantic,” he said, and from the way he moved and Thorin winced, it looked like Bilbo had elbowed him. Then the blond turned back to the laptop screen. “And I know you’re thinking the exact same thing. You two are hopeless.”  
  
“We’re hopelessly in love,” Thorin said, lips twitching, and even Dwalin had to groan.  
  
“Just because of that you can go to bed alone.” However Bilbo didn’t look like someone about to send Thorin off to bed alone. And Thorin certainly didn’t seem to be bothered by the comment.  
  
“We didn’t use the bed the last time.”   
  
Dwalin felt a hot curl of desire twist around his spine; even through the tinny speakers on the laptop he could hear the obvious sultry tone of Thorin’s voice. He watched his cousin lean close to Bilbo, nuzzling his neck.   
  
Fuck work for keeping him here when his lovers were so far away.   
  
Dwalin couldn’t really remember what happened next; this selective memory loss was probably due to the fact that Bilbo was now bent over the desk, with Thorin grinding what looked like a growing erection against his arse. Obviously his brain couldn’t be asked to remember insignificant details when it needed to save energy to burn _this_ into his mind for the rest of time.  
  
It wasn’t perfect; with the laptop on the desk as well, Dwalin couldn’t get a full view of the both of them. Right now he could only see Bilbo’s arse and Thorin’s groin, which, okay, excellent to look at – but he wanted to see their faces as well.   
  
Realising that he was palming himself through his jeans, Dwalin impatiently got to his feet and unbuttoned and unzipped, pushing it and his pants down to his knees before sitting quickly. He hissed at the slightly rough feel of the chair seat against his bare skin.  
  
“How’s – how’s this?” Bilbo’s voice sounded muffled; Dwalin could imagine that he had his forehead pillowed against his forearms, speaking towards the desk. “Is it alright?”  
  
“I’d like it better if you were naked.” He licked his lips. “But just you. Thorin can keep his clothes on.”  
  
“I’d rather not come in my pants,” was the dry reply, as Thorin obligingly let Bilbo up. As the curly-haired man started on his shirt, fingers fumbling over the buttons, Thorin helped with his trousers. With Dwalin watching appreciatively, Thorin groped Bilbo as he did so, without any trace of shame.  
  
Well of course Dwalin was appreciative. Thorin was pressed up against a mostly-naked Bilbo’s back, gently rubbing his prettily flushed cock. Bilbo let out his usual litany of enthusiastic encouragement and breathy moans, rocking his hips into Thorin’s grip. The video quality wasn’t the best, especially given the distance, so Dwalin supplemented the image with his own memories.   
  
He could remember the size and weight and feel of Bilbo’s cock, how it curved to the left and flushed as deep a pink as his cheeks. He could also remember watching Thorin fist Bilbo right in front of him; how he would tease Bilbo mercilessly by caressing just the head for long moments before following through with slow strokes.   
  
Dwalin couldn’t tell whether Bilbo’s cock was leaking or not, but his mouth _ached_ with his want to taste.   
  
Bilbo made a muttered protest when Thorin let off, but obligingly let his shirt be peeled off his back. Dwalin savoured the view, the expanse of golden skin, and wished bitterly that he’d be able to reach out and touch. The disappointment was culled slightly when Bilbo adjusted the laptop screen and smiled invitingly, eyes unerringly meeting Dwalin’s (even though it was through laptops and the internet).  
  
“Are you touching yourself?” he asked, voice gone low and intimate.   
  
“Yeah.” Dwalin swallowed. “Yeah, ‘course.”  
  
“Let us see?” Bilbo bit down on his lower lip, arching his back as Thorin’s hands swept down his sides.   
  
“I –”  
  
“ _Please_?”  
  
Knowing he was utterly helpless to that pleading voice, Dwalin adjusted the angle of the camera. He did feel a bit like a tit, though, and waited until Bilbo and Thorin made satisfied sounds before quickly flipping it back up. (There was hardly any point to all of this if he didn’t get to see the two of them, after all.)  
  
“You’re lovely,” Bilbo cooed. Dwalin’s ears went warm and red, because there was no doubting the genuine tone of Bilbo’s voice. “What do you want to do when we get home? Do you want one of us to suck your lovely cock until you come?”  
  
“Surprise me,” Dwalin growled. “Now I want to watch you two.” And pretend that they were in the room with him, and not stupidly far away.  
  
“Should I suck him off again?” Thorin said, voice a husky murmur. “Or have you watched that video enough times by now to want something different?”  
  
“I want you to fuck me,” Bilbo said, turning his head to look up at Thorin and nuzzle his neck. “No one’s fucked me in a long time.”  
  
“Are we depriving you?” Thorin asked, amused. “And strange, I could have sworn that Dwalin fucked you before we left. Dwalin, do you remember this?”  
  
Bilbo had been in a lazy mood, languidly fisting his prick as Dwalin sucked Thorin into a flushed, sticky mess and then asking – demanding – to be fucked, wanting Dwalin to do it slowly and thoroughly. He’d sighed happily each time Dwalin had bottomed out, completely filled with Dwalin’s cock.  
  
“Vaguely,” Dwalin said and snorted.   
  
“It feels like a long time ago,” Bilbo protested. “And why are you still wearing clothes, Thorin?”  
  
“Dwalin said that I should keep my clothes on.”  
  
“And you said that you didn’t want to come in your pants.”  
  
And there they were, back to bickering. Dwalin chuckled to himself as his lovers bickered their way to Thorin ending up as naked as Bilbo. While watching he kept one of his fists loosely circled around his dick, not really stroking, just… being ready. He didn’t want to finish before Bilbo and Thorin did.   
  
And it felt a bit strange to be staring at a computer screen, about to get himself off. Okay, he’d been wanking to the video they’d sent, but still. Ever since what they had had become a permanent thing, he’d not really had much need for wanking, and during the times he did get himself off, he didn’t really have any real desire for porn or anything other than the images playing in his head.   
  
Thorin’s pretty mouth as it opened to get fucked, the glassy look in Bilbo’s eyes just before he came, the way Thorin’s ears flushed when you teased him, Bilbo’s lovely, round arse, Thorin’s arms… Yeah, things like that were pretty much all the inspiration he needed.  
  
This though, this was something different.  
  
Bilbo was back to being pressed against the desk, his head tilted to be able to watch the laptop screen which had been adjusted once again. Thorin had gotten a bottle of lube from somewhere and while Dwalin couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, he didn’t doubt that the distracted look on Bilbo’s face and the flush on his cheeks were because he was slowly being fingered open by Thorin’s long fingers.  
  
“Tell Dwalin what I’m doing,” Thorin prompted.   
  
“Nrgh,” was all Bilbo managed at first. “I’m supposed to talk? Oh, right _there_. Again. And I think he knows what you’re doing already.”  
  
“Tell him anyway.” Dwalin couldn’t see Thorin’s face, but he heard the teasing lilt of his voice. “Pretend this is one of your shows, we’re about to make a little something called an orgasm. Please describe the process. How many fingers do I have in you?”  
  
“Only one,” Bilbo said. “You - _oh_. Yes, please.”  
  
“How many now?”  
  
“Two. Thorin, you shouldn’t tease. More.”  
  
“In your show you edit out so much of the preparation,” Thorin mused. “But I’m sure Dwalin doesn’t want to miss it. Dwalin?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s not only about the results,” Dwalin as he shifted on the chair. It was quite possible that his smaller head didn’t agree with his bigger one at the moment. Good things _came_ to those who wait? “The methods are very important. In fact I think you cheated, Thorin.”  
  
“Cheated?”  
  
“Yeah, you rushed in with the lube, and now you can’t lick him open. Lube tastes horrible. Such a waste.”  
  
Thorin hummed. “This will have to do for now then. Bilbo, I offer my apologies.”  
  
“You two are not the least bit funny.”  
  
“We’re a little funny,” Thorin protested.   
  
“No, you’re, _ohhh_ …” Bilbo’s eyes fluttered closed. “Not. Funny.”  
  
“I’m crushed,” Thorin said drily. “Dwalin, he doesn’t think that we’re funny.”  
  
“Tickle him?” Dwalin suggested, and while he could only see the horrified look on Bilbo’s face, he didn’t really need to see the mischievous one on Thorin’s when strong fingers started to dance over Bilbo’s ribs.  
  
Apparently writhing on a desk in giggles was also an effective way of fucking yourself on someone’s fingers because there was almost an equal amount of giggles and moans.   
  
“Stop it, stop,” Bilbo gasped, and Thorin relented, leaning forward to press a kiss to the nape of Bilbo’s neck and taking the opportunity to wink at Dwalin.  
  
“I think we’re at least a little funny,” Dwalin mused.   
  
Bilbo, still trying to catch his breath, snorted. “You’re both bonkers, that’s what you are. And I’m clearly not very sensible either since I’m here of my own free will.”  
  
“I thought we were hopeless,” Thorin pointed out.  
  
“You can be more than one thing at the time. To provide an example, I’m both annoyed and aroused at the same time. Can you _please_ stop teasing and fuck me?”  
  
“You’re not ready yet.”  
  
“Oh, I am. _So_ ready.”  
  
“Are you two really about to start bickering again?” Dwalin asked.  
  
There was somewhat of a sullen silence coming from both his lovers and Dwalin snorted. “You two are the hopeless ones. And I miss the hell out of you.”  
  
“You don’t have to miss us right now,” Bilbo said, looking earnestly at him, and Dwalin touched his free hand to the edge of the screen.  
  
“Still wish I was with you though.”  
  
“Well, if you were here, then maybe I would have someone to _fuck me_.”  
  
“Perhaps I just want you to keep saying the word ‘fuck’,” Thorin said as he ran his hand down Bilbo’s side. “I think it’s one of the only expletives I’ve ever heard you say. Perhaps _the_ only.”  
  
“I’m not – _N-ahh_ …”  
  
Bilbo made an almost scandalised kind of noise, and Dwalin figured that Thorin had removed his fingers when another hand fitted itself to Bilbo’s hip. And then came a soft little moan as Thorin started to fill him with his cock. It made Dwalin’s dick throb and reminded him that he’d actually been in the middle of getting off.  
  
“It’s quite rude,” Bilbo told Thorin, his fingers scrambling over the desk to try and find something to cling to. “To interrupt someone like that.”  
  
“I thought you wanted me to fuck you?”  
  
Bilbo muttered something that Dwalin wasn’t able to make out, but it didn’t sound particularly complimentary.  
  
But just a minute later, the story was a rather different one.  
  
“Yes,” Bilbo moaned, and his voice was so wanton and breathy that Dwalin groaned and fisted himself even more quickly before he forced himself to slow down. He was sitting in front of his laptop and wanking, but that didn’t mean that he had to come off like a teenager.  
  
Every thrust made the laptop judder slightly, and it was lucky that the desk was a sturdy one or all Dwalin would have seen was a shaky blur. As things were it of course still wasn’t like being there with them, but it would do for now.  
  
Thorin moved his hand to splay over the roundness of Bilbo’s stomach, the other one over his chest and he urged Bilbo back and up from the desk.  
  
“Look at him,” Thorin said as the little screen was filled with Bilbo’s hips, as well as his pretty dick and smooth skin. “So gorgeous and so ours.”  
  
“Yes, he is,” Bilbo agreed shakily.   
  
“I was talking about you,” Thorin said, hiding a small chuckle at the nape of Bilbo’s neck.  
  
“Oh.” A pause. “It fits Dwalin as well.”  
  
“You’re both beautiful,” Dwalin growled. “Come on now, fuck him properly. He doesn’t want you to tease. You need to fuck him good enough for both of us.”  
  
“Agreed,” Bilbo said, groaning when the speed of Thorin’s thrusts sped up and Thorin pushed him down against the desk again. The video started jerking (ha-ha) again, and through the speakers came the gorgeous orchestra of Bilbo’s moans, steadily getting louder and louder.  
  
“If you were here, would you want to fuck him after I’d come?” Thorin asked, hissing out a breath as Bilbo pushed his hips back. “Would you like him to, Bilbo? I could come inside you, and then Dwalin would do the same. He’ll take you when you’re all open and dripping.”  
  
“Sounds like – a plan,” Bilbo said between panting breaths.   
  
Dwalin nodded. “I’d like that.” Bilbo would be slippery and yielding, absolutely perfect for him to just push in to the hilt and take, take, take.  
  
“Not sure,” Thorin said, jarring that image from Dwalin’s mind. “Maybe you should just fuck me while I make sure to keep our lovely chef happy. It felt amazing when we did that the last time.  But I’m not sure I could remain standing throughout.”   
  
Thorin actually sounded much too in control and Dwalin’s fingers itched with the want to wreck that steady voice, fist a hand in his hair and kiss him until he was dizzy with it. Even better, he could force his cock into Thorin’s willing mouth until his voice was a hoarse shadow of its former self.  
  
“I’d have you both on the desk,” Dwalin said huskily. “Spread out for me.” Preferably after they’d fingered each other open – then he’d lie them down against the table side-by-side, switching from one to the other as he saw fit, and they’d be close enough to kiss each other as he fucked them.  
  
“We’d break the desk,” Bilbo protested, his eyes fluttering open to blink at Dwalin. There was a tell-tale flush on his cheeks that mean that he wasn’t all that far off from coming which distracted Dwalin from his thoughts of just _building_ a sturdy enough desk for their fucking. He was also a little surprised since he could see both Bilbo’s and Thorin’s hands; no one was stroking Bilbo’s cock.  
  
“You going to come just from Thorin’s prick?” Dwalin asked, rubbing his thumb over the head of his own cock. “You really needed to be fucked didn’t you?”  
  
Bilbo nodded shakily, eyelids already threatening to slide shut again. “Said so.”  
  
“He keeps clenching around me,” Thorin rumbled. “Stretch your arms out on the table, Bilbo.”  
  
The blond obliged and Thorin draped himself over Bilbo’s back, tangling their hands together as his hips rolled in smooth motions. The change in position allowed Dwalin to see Thorin’s face as well, and the strong line of his cousin’s shoulder and arm.   
  
“Are you close?” Thorin murmured.  
  
“Ah, yes,” their lover moaned. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”  
  
“Dwalin? What do you think?”  
  
“No, no,” Bilbo protested. “No second opinions.”  
  
“I’d flip Bilbo onto his back. Watch his face as he falls apart. Do that now.”  
  
Bilbo groaned when Thorin pulled away, but pliantly allowed Thorin to turn him over; the only protest was when his arse hit a cold spot on the wood, which evidently was forgiven when he was awarded a deep kiss.  
  
“Angle good for you?” Thorin asked, leaning in to look at the laptop screen; as he did so Bilbo snagged a lock of his hair and yanked him in for another kiss. He pressed a bite to Thorin’s bearded chin before pulling back, expression impatient.  
  
“Can we go back to focusing on my angle?”  
  
Thorin chuckled. “Dwalin?”  
  
“I’m good,” Dwalin said, licking his lips. “He wants you to fuck him, so fuck him.”  
  
When Bilbo wrapped his legs around Thorin’s hips, Dwalin’s view of how Thorin’s flushed, hard cock slowly sank back into Bilbo was hindered and he couldn’t see Thorin’s face at all - but he could still watch Bilbo’s face, tilted towards the camera without really seeing it, and he could see how Bilbo’s back and neck arched as he was filled again.  
  
“Come for us then,” Thorin urged, wrapping one hand around Bilbo’s cock, half hidden behind Bilbo’s thigh. “Show Dwalin, show us how lovely you look when you fall apart.”  
  
Bilbo blinked rapidly as he tried to keep his eyes open and on Dwalin’s image on the screen and Dwalin groaned at the lost look on his face. He knew perfectly well what both his lovers were feeling, the tight heat of fucking and the gorgeous feeling of getting fucked, and he matched the movement of his hand to the rhythm of Thorin’s hips.  
  
Bilbo’s arms were still spread over the table, now at his sides, and they moved slightly with each thrust. His mouth was open in a constant stream of moans and half-swallowed endearments, his lips swollen and red.   
  
“Open those pretty eyes,” Dwalin said huskily, and he could see the effort it took Bilbo to do so. Then a particularly well-aimed thrust from Thorin made them flutter closed once more, and that was it. Bilbo’s face twisted in pleasure and Dwalin was just as lost, spilling wetly over his fist.  
  
It was fucking lucky that he was sitting down because there was no way his knees would have stood for that. Dwalin opened his eyes – hell knew when he’d closed them – and looked at Thorin as he rutted into a pliant Bilbo who smiled contently up at him.  
  
“Are you going to come?” Dwalin asked, voice more of a rasp than anything else.  
  
“Yesss,” Thorin hissed between what sounded like clenched teeth.  
  
“Pull out. Let Bilbo touch you and come over him. Mark him.”  
  
“Yes, but no bruises later,” Bilbo said weakly. “Filming.”  
  
Thorin’s hips began to stutter and he pulled out. Obviously that was the extent of his ability to obey Dwalin’s commands; as Dwalin watched, Thorin had his hand practically flying over his slick length as he came over Bilbo’s cock, on his stomach. Thick, hot spurts that Dwalin again wanted to taste, wanted to lap up.  
  
With a pleased hum Bilbo reached down to rub his fingers through the mess of white on his belly. Thorin captured that hand and leaned in to suck his fingers clean, then started kissing his way up Bilbo’s arm to his neck -  
  
“Thorin, I meant it, no bruises.”  
  
And they were back to bickering. Dwalin grinned and bent down to snag his discarded pants. He wiped his hand on them as Bilbo squirmed on the desk, pushing half-heartedly at Thorin’s shoulders.   
  
“No bruises,” Thorin murmured. “Quite.”  
  
 Bilbo sighed and turned his head fully towards the laptop, letting Thorin do as he wished. “Did you like it?”  
  
“Loved it,” Dwalin promised. “Love you. Love you both.”  
  
“Love you too.”  
  
“Love you,” Thorin echoed, lifting his head from Bilbo’s neck. “And love you,” he said again, stealing a kiss from Bilbo.  
  
“Mmm,” Bilbo agreed. “Maybe tomorrow you can rim me first? Then I get to fuck you?”  
  
Dwalin and Thorin both blinked.  
  
“Yes?” Thorin said, and Bilbo laughed and pulled him down for another kiss.   
  



End file.
